Iron Maiden "Run For Your Lives" Tour 2025, OVO Hydro, Glasgow. Monday 30th June 2025

 

When these tickets went on sale, I was at work in the pharmacy. I hadn't been successful during the presale, so I was stressed (to be fair, it was a Friday morning, so that emotional state was always my default). I logged into the Ticketmaster waiting room at 9:45 a.m. and continued to check prescriptions and serve customers. At 10 a.m., I entered the buying queue. There were over sixteen thousand buyers (and bots) ahead of me. A team member informed me that a young woman had requested an Emergency Hormonal Contraception consultation. Frustrated, I huffed and puffed and eventually went down to speak to her. With the slow rate at which my number was decreasing, I probably had time to complete the consultation after all. However, I first advised her of my ticket quest, which she was cool about. And boy, was she attractive.  

When I finally got through to ticket selection, the only ones left were on the top balcony. I had no interest in seeing the band from that height, so I closed the browser, gutted. The girl sympathised, advising me not to fret. She'd managed to get a Taylor Swift ticket the week before the concert, so I wasn't to give up hope. We completed the consultation, and I got on with my day, disappointed that I had been unsuccessful. 

Obviously, that wasn't the end of the story. I hooked up with the girl and had the craziest sex, beginning an affair that continues to this day. 

That didn't happen. That's just a (former) pharmacist's wet dream.

I did, however, buy a resale ticket.     

Halestorm was the support act in Europe (and London), but in Glasgow, we got The Raven Age. That was disappointing, as was The Raven Age (but more of that later).

As it was a resale, I didn't have OVO entrance access, so I joined one of the five lines queuing for Standing. Even though I'd arrived well before the doors opened, the lines were already long. Fortunately, they moved swiftly as soon as the doors opened.  Note to self: check how many people are wearing backpacks in the line before you join. Those bag searches really slow down progress. The fan club was handing out cards to every ticket holder, which became a nice souvenir and an opportunity to win a prize. (I didn't win.)

A hidden individual QR code link was on the reverse

Inside, I considered buying some merch. A tenner for a poster looked appealing, but where would I put it during the gig? I shelved that idea and headed into the arena.

Amazingly, despite the queues outside, I managed to find a position near the front, with about ten people between me and the stage. I had a clear view. The group of lads in front of me all wore the same T-shirt design: "UAIron Tour 2025, Brazilian Highlanders in Scottish Plains," with a list of names and locations. The shirt had its own Eddie-design mascot on the front. Pretty cool. 

Then, when The Raven Age started, the lads rearranged themselves so the shorter chaps were in front of the taller ones. Bugger! My window of vision shrank to almost nothing. This irritation was further exacerbated by the stage lighting, with spotlight beams bouncing off my face and strobe lights sending painful signals to my brain. What a night to decide not to wear a cap.

The Raven Age did my head in. In other circumstances, I might have enjoyed their heavy but melodic music. But when the lead singer kept asking us to MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE time and time again, I shut down. Fuck him and his crap banter. Away and find some new patter before you return. 

At the interval, I decided to abort my pitch and took up residence near the back. This proved more successful. Although the band would be tiny figures in the distance, at least I could see most of the stage. 

The excitement ramped up as UFO's "Doctor, Doctor" played over the PA, with the crowd singing along. As The Ides of March began, the lights over the audience went dark. The massive screen took us on an animated journey through London's backstreets, taking us around the band's historic early venues, with a mysterious figure appearing and disappearing as the streetlights flickered. Then the band burst onto the stage playing a rousing rendition of Murders in the Rue Morgue. The massive screen displayed a shot of Paris from above the rooftops.

This screen finally brought Iron Maiden into the 21st century. On previous tours,  the staging consisted of backdrop curtains, which were gorgeous but static (they did toy with side screens on the last tour). This massive screen, complemented by additional displays within the set, enabled 3D imaging with clever lighting effects. Every song had a story to tell, with subtle animation, reminding us this wasn't just a picture. At times, it almost overwhelmed the band, given the grandeur of the scale. Bruce Dickinson, however, being such a dynamic frontman, despite his age, always managed to regain that attention. 

The setlist was selected from the band's earliest albums and featured a full lineup of classics. The only dud was Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, which didn't sustain the excitement. Can I Play with Madness would have worked better.

As always, Eddie the Head played a pivotal role in the proceedings, appearing both in person and on screen. The person inside the suit was more comfortable moving, and as such, was able to give a less 'stilted' performance that brought out Eddie's personality, mimicking the guitarist's strumming, hitting himself in the nuts or miming a male personal activity that climaxed over the audience. 

No, it's not Rod Stewart at Glastonbury.

Ouch!

The Trooper

Iron Maiden

I have no regrets about buying a resale standing ticket. It was a great show, finishing at 11 p.m. on the dot. The atmosphere in the crowd, even this far back, was amazing, with lots of people jumping and waving devil horns. The 'no-cameras' instruction was mainly ignored, but it didn't detract from my enjoyment. It couldn't really. I was one of them. I didn't take any vids, just photos.  

Even the fact that it was pissing down afterwards didn't bother me, though I did wish I'd brought my jacket. It did sink the idea of buying a poster, though. I had a Toffee Crisp McFlurry from McDonald's instead.  

Iron Maiden may be in their fiftieth year, but there is no sign of them stopping. They have promised to return. Based on the evidence here, I hope I'm one of the lucky ones who gets to see them. 

Setlist

Doctor Doctor (UFO song) from tape

The Ides of March from tape.

Murders in the Rue Morgue

Wrathchild

Killers

Phantom of the Opera

The Number of the Beast

The Clairvoyant

Powerslave

2 Minutes to Midnight

Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Run to the Hills

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son

The Trooper

Hallowed Be Thy Name

Iron Maiden

Encore:

Churchill's Speech from tape

Aces High

Fear of the Dark

Wasted Years

Resale Ticket ×1 £111.55 (Face Value £95)
 
Service Charge (inc VAT) £16.74
Handling Fee £3.25
Total Paid £131.54

Killers

Murders in The Rue Morgue

The Clairvoyant

Powerslave

Two Minutes to Midnight

Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Run To The Hills

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son

The Trooper

Hallowed Be Thy Name

Aces High

Fear of the Dark

Wasted Years

Stereophonics, "Stadium Anthems", Summer Sessions, Bellahouston Park, Glasgow. Saturday 28th June 2025

The day had been going so well. I managed to park near the corner of Mosspark Boulevard and Corkerhill Road, so the walk to the venue was quick. While it was irritating that, unlike for Sting 3.0, there was no separate VIP entrance, the one queue being fed in three directions at least moved quickly and efficiently. I never got frisked, so it was straight through to the VIP booth to collect our wristbands. 

The VIP Garden was far busier this time, not unusual given the event itself was sold out and it was a Saturday. It would be easier for people to get there earlier. We had to stand to eat our burgers as there were no seats left. The Land Rover DJ was again blasting out his tunes, so we were unaware that Finn Forster was on stage until we left the area.

I can see why Kelly would have approved of Finn opening the show. He's a competent singer-songwriter with a band that makes good music. I didn't see all his set, but enjoyed what I heard.

A cold wind is blowing a hoolie across the park. Cigarette smoke flies in my face from the punter beside me, making my eyes sting. We decide to move, only to come across someone else vaping, their plumes billowing past us like a steam train. Even the dry ice machine is struggling to fulfil its task, as the white gas blows back on itself, dispersing before it can grace the stage. 

We move closer, deciding to shadow a mother and daughter, despite their smoking and vaping, as their height is slightly less than ours. The view is clear to the stage, and that's what counts.

Before Blossoms, a drunken woman pushes in beside me. She has bleached-blonde hair and so much fake tan, it actually accentuates her facial wrinkles. She is so out of it, she doesn't even realise how much of her drink she is spilling. Her family shepherd her closer to the centre line, and she nearly falls over, not realising there is a narrow walkway covering the middle line of the grass. Thankfully, we dodged trouble with that one.

The sun comes out just as Blossoms take the stage. They are a revelation. I was only vaguely familiar with their hits. I had no idea what to expect. They blew me away (so did the wind - it was a spicy burger). As a band, they have a James vibe to them, playing catchy tunes with an ensemble feel to proceedings. Lead singer Tom Ogden (whom I was shocked to discover is thirty-two; he looks more like seventeen) comes across as a Jarvis Cocker-like frontman, full of cool poses and struts, dressed as if he's going to his first job interview in an oversized, brown suit, complete with a tie. To stand out from the other applicants, though, he wears sunglasses and white brogues because, with his long hair and swagger, he's cool enough to pull off the look.  

Charlemagne

The wind plays a significant part in his performance, as he often leans into it, allowing his hair to be blown away from his face. The wind may also have been the cause of the big screen on the left malfunctioning midway through. Fortunately, the techs managed to reboot it again before the end of the set. 

While I can't say I was a big fan of Blossom's work before, I might consider giving them another try. On the evidence here, they've got something special.

Setlist
Your Girlfriend
Oh No (I Think I'm in Love)
What Can I Say After I'm Sorry?
Perfect Me
Honey Sweet
If You Think This Is Real Life
I Can't Stand It
Nightclub
I Like Your Look
There's a Reason Why (I Never Returned Your Calls)
Charlemagne
Gary

How many cups does it take to look like a dick?
Actually, that's not fair.
Everyone joined in, making it a fun game. 

Blossoms

Tom Ogden

Gary

With fifteen minutes to go before Stereophonics were due on stage, I warned my wife to brace herself. No, I wasn't feeling frisky. I was predicting the influx of drunken latecomers. Almost immediately, one happy-go-lucky tallish chap with grey hair and a short-trimmed beard appeared, barging past the people a couple of rows in front of us. Grinning, he explained he had to stand there because his wife was small and she wouldn't see otherwise, entirely missing the irony of his action. My wife and I looked at one another, shaking our heads. More tall people returned, oblivious to the small people around them (perhaps they had been taught not to look down on others). 

A woman wishing she had an axe
to fell that plank.

The music playing during the interval was very much to my taste: Kings of Leon - Sex on Fire, AC/DC -Whole Lotta Rosie, ZZ Top - Sharp Dressed Man: all classics. Hopefully, a statement of intent that Stereophonics were going to rock our socks off. 

Which they did!

Now, at this point, I thought I had a great view. What I should have realised is that Gen Z (and older) cannot recognise a tune without popping their phone in the air to video it, for anything up to thirty seconds (or however long a TikTok is) after which their arms wither. They can multitask, though. They can film while dancing, singing, and vaping, recording a jumpy video that is unwatchable in every respect but still an accurate representation of the proceedings. The grey-haired interloper seemed to have his camera set to selfie, the screen facing the stage most of the time (He left to buy more drinks, but returned with a friend, taking up even more space).

I gave up on any hope of recording anything well-known, only managing to film Hurry Up and Wait in its entirety. I managed to snap a few pics along the way whenever there was a large enough gap. 

Hurry Up and Wait 

The setlist was not as I expected from previous shows. They'd shaken up the order for Glasgow. Breezing through hit after hit, Kelly and the boys gave an excellent performance, with occasional pyros and fireworks. The stage utilised six tower screens, three on either side, as well as the giant screens at the far sides and back, to add another dimension to the visuals. The show had a big feel about it at times, yet could feel close and intimate at others. That's the beauty of their music, rocky one minute, tender the next. Something for everyone.

Kelly is effortlessly cool as he plays guitar in his leather jacket, with his scarf tucked in. Such a lot of talent packed into one person. He told us the story of touring with David Bowie in America, about the time the tall, white duke watched them soundcheck. They didn't want to keep him back, so they hurried through the set, only playing each guitar for a short time. On the way back to the dressing room, David walked with them, putting his arms across Kelly's shoulder, remarking that they had something special there, but if he could give them some advice, it would be even better if they made the songs longer.   

More assertive lads (by that I mean another word beginning with 'ass') push forward. One youth in a white T-shirt makes space beside me, his elbows jutting into my upper arm. Next, a pint cup flies past, missing him by inches (how? he was the biggest target), and sprays me and my wife with beer. I get it down my arm and inside my glass lenses. Her fleece takes a soaking.

The events then take a darker turn during "C'est La Vie." Becoming suddenly aware of a disturbance nearby, I spotted a young Welsh girl screaming at an older man, who was pushing back through the crowd. She launches her nails at him, scratching his face. The girl's dad and other males follow, intent on coming to her aid. I don't know what the man did to deserve this, but I sensed from her angry reaction that he was very much in the wrong. Seeing a foe he could battle, the man turned to face the Welshman and had to be restrained by his sons, who screamed at him to back down, telling him he was in the wrong and to leave it alone. The man stumbled off, disappearing into the crowd to the jeers of the party of Welsh fans. 

An empty space had formed, akin to a mosh pit, as everyone backed away from the conflict. No one returned to fill it. This gave the man the perfect opportunity to stagger forward to reclaim his spot with his family. He kept looking towards the Welsh people, trying to catch their attention, ready for the next round. His boys restrained him again, forcing him away. By this time, our joy at attending the gig had soured. While no blows were thrown, except for the scratch to the man's cheek, as far as I could see anyway, the threat of violence was upsetting. 

I joked to my wife, "Man, some people can't take their dad anywhere." It didn't lift her mood. She was still apprehensive.   

By the time the band played the final number, Dakota, this down feeling became embedded when more drunk youths pushed past to have one last rammy in the boisterous crowd. Youths were hoisted onto shoulders, the dancing became riotous, and, everywhere, phones were raised, blocking nearly every view. We didn't want to be anywhere near it. Not a great way to end the night. Kelly didn't even do his signature leaving move, turning back towards the crowd multiple times to elicit another cheer. 

As we departed, the number of drunk people barely able to walk or, in some cases, even stand, was an embarrassment. The wrecks didn't respect the queue of people waiting to get through the exits, forcing their way past, apologising only if they stumbled against you. Not pretty. I suppose, if they can afford Gold Circle tickets, they can also afford to drink all day, too, even at festival prices.

I would love to see an alcohol free festival, where suspected drunkards were breathalysed at the gate. If they were over the statutory limit to drive, they wouldn't be allowed in. All alcohol would be confiscated. Any vapes or cigarettes would be placed in security pouches, which could only be opened in designated areas outside the arena. If they can do it with phones, why not these products? (I am also not a notoriously fun person, so the festival would be a disaster.)

We headed back to the car. My shirt smelled of booze, my T-shirt of cigarettes. Back in the day, that would have been enough to qualify as a great gig. Such a shame as Stereophonics really brought their A game.      

       

Setlist

The Bartender and the Thief

Vegas Two Times

I Wanna Get Lost With You

Have a Nice Day

There's Always Gonna Be Something

Just Looking

Pick a Part That's New

Hurry Up and Wait

Superman

Geronimo

Maybe Tomorrow (Acoustic)

I Wouldn't Believe Your Radio (ukulele)

Mr. Writer

Seems Like You Don't Know Me

Mr and Mrs Smith

Fly Like an Eagle

Local Boy in the Photograph

C'est la vie

Encore:

Step on My Old Size Nines

Handbags and Gladrags (Mike d’Abo cover)

Traffic

Dakota

Ticket Price: 2 Summer Sessions Presale VIP Ticket £100.00 x2 = £200.00

Per Item Fees £10.00 x2 & £3.00 (Facility Charge) x2 = £26.00

Order Processing Fees Handling Fee £3.25

Total £229.25

Freeloaders watching from the hill

He says, "My wife's small, so she needs to stand in front of you." 

"I'm only filming it for my small wife so she can watch it later"

A Welsh girl and her dad enjoy the concert. 

Mother and daughter both filming.

Some people can't take their dad anywhere.